


Prospective Reunion

by Ayngelcat



Series: Grapple and Scrapper Chronicles [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Grapple determines that even when Scrapper does make contact, he isn't going to see him. This, however, doesn't turn out to be the case.</p><p>*Warnings* for fluff and romance, angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prospective Reunion

The more time went on, the more determined Grapple became that when Scrapper called he would simply not be available.

Why _should_ he be available? It had been over a week now, and no word. _Not a dickie-bird_ , as the humans said. Except of course - that gift; which was beautiful. But surely just a ploy to get his attention, a means of making him drop everything and turn all his attention in Scrapper’s direction – only to be disappointed.

Grapple fought the ache in his spark. No - he had news for Scrapper. He wasn’t going to get all emotional. Nor was he going to be at the beck and call of some _construction_ mech; Some _gestalt_ type who was clearly far more interested in the other components of his team than in he, Grapple!

But the orange crane was not good at fighting emotion. Not when it came to the Constructicon leader. As the afternoon wore on, and the weather closed in, and Grapple tried to answer questions  about the laying of the foundations for the human visitor centre near the Ark, he worked himself more and more into a tizz.

The other Constructicons!  Every time Grapple looked at a marker post or hole in the ground, visions arose of Scrapper ‘doing things’ - _with them._ Every time he transformed into alt mode and extended his crane shaft to shift materials, he pictured Scrapper’s hands on the shaft of _that other_ crane, his fingers fondling _that hook_.

And that – it was almost unbearable! Not that Grapple hadn’t been plagued by the infernal prospect before; not that he didn’t know that – oh yes, unthinkable though it was, he couldn’t avoid the fact – a reality. But somehow, when he had been getting the attention from Scrapper that Hook obviously wasn’t – at least not all the time – that had made things a whole lot better.

“Hey!” Hoist had arrived. “Great afternoon’s work!”

Hoist smiled. But he had that “look.” It _said I know you’re disappointed he hasn’t called, but you and I both know this is for the best, and actually I’m rather pleased about it_. And all this week, that had infuriated Grapple, because it was _none of his business_ , and Grapple had resisted it with everything he had ....

Except that, the fact was inescapable. Hoist was right.

Hoist knew that Grapple knew he was right. An appalling sympathy now spread over his faceplates. “C’mon - reckon we oughtta turn in,” he said softly. “Rain’s gonna be here soon.”

Grapple realized that a few drops were already tinging on his panels, running down his chest chassis. “I suppose you’re right!” he said. Casting one last longing look at clouds hanging low over the mountains – where, if Scrapper were anywhere, he imagined he would be – Grapple let out a long sigh. Transforming, he followed Hoist out of the camp.

They had not been on the road for more than a few moments before his comm went off.

…………..

//I’m busy, as it happens!// Grapple said triumphantly. Oh how pleased he was that he had rehearsed that.

//No you’re not!// Scrapper said. //You’re just finished for the day and you’re headed back. Weather’s coming in fast. But if you make an excuse and leave now, we’ll have time to get to the secret place I found before we get washed away.//

The nerve of it!  How dare he? That, and the way he just assumed Grapple would drop everything. And go to some _secret place_ he wouldn't even say the name of! It was appalling!

And he needn’t think that appealing voice, that _gorgeous_ voice, filled as always with almost youthful enthusiasm, would make any difference. //You’ve been _watching_ me?// Grapple was pleased at his own voice, suitably outraged.

//Course I have!// Scrapper said. //And you’ve been looking up here all afternoon, hoping I was watching you. I got the impression you’d be very disappointed if I wasn’t.//

Grapple flushed. Of course he’d been doing that. Hoping that. But it wasn’t the point!

//Why has it taken you so long?// he said crossly.

//What?// Scrapper laughed. He _laughed._ //It’s been a week! I hardly call that ‘so long’ after four million years!// He sounded genuinely amazed. And just a little wounded.

Grapple felt his resolve slip. Yes, it was possible – it was definitely possible – that he might have been a tad – _unreasonable._

And now, he’d been reminded of that other awful thing. Four million of those four million and a half years, Scrapper had been in stasis, while he, Grapple, was buzzing round the universe. How desperately he had had to try, in order to forget him. And how had it been for Scrapper? He didn’t even know. Grapple’s spark started to throb, slowly.

Because Scrapper was so – stoic – about it all. //You’re not the only one with full on construction projects, you know!// he was saying, cheerfully. //And I did my best. Did you like the present? That took me a whole cycle.//

The rain was coming down heavier now. Grapple splashed through puddles, his wheels squelching in the muddy ground.  The wind whipped around his chassis. He thought of the secret place, imagining the sort of hideout Scrapper would like - a cave somewhere maybe, dry and cosy and inviting ...

//Sure would be good to see you!// Scrapper said.

Grapple's speed slowed as the ache in his chest grew, creeping through his systems, filling him with longing. A long slow groan came from his vocalizer. Hoist, who had been rolling slightly ahead with Huffer, fell back beside him. “What’s up?” he said.

//Grapple?// Scrapper said.

“Grapple?” Hoist said.

//I want to ...// Grapple whispered. 

And then his spark was on fire, and every component, every neural synapse ached so hard for Scrapper that it was all Grapple could do to keep rolling. His engine stuttered, his frame shuddering, his vents letting out a long, laboured sigh.

//Hey - missed you - _hurry!_ //  Scrapper said.

“Grapple …” Hoist’s voice carried a knowing, warning tone.

Grapple made a decision; just as the rain started to come down on them with a vengeance. “I’m worried about my foundations!” he cried. “I need to go back and check on them. You know what a perfectionist I am! It won’t take long, and I don’t need any help.”

“GRAPPLE!” but the crane, in astonishingly agile fashion, had done a u-turn and was gone, roaring back down the rain-swept, muddy track before Hoist could say any more.

Scrapper chuckled delightedly. //That’s more like it!// he said. //Now – this secret place – take a left turn at the trees and transform. Then just keep going up. I’ll meet you at the top.//

………………..

 

By the time Hoist rounded the bend, there were only the  puddles as the rain splashed into them and the sigh of the pine trees as the wind rushed through, blowing bits of foliage on to the track.

The technician transformed. “Pit!” he swore, in uncharacteristic ire, balling his fists. “Pit, pit, PIT! Well don’t expect me to come and save your aft, Grapple! You and your _stupid_ infatuation!”

Yet perhaps the most devastating thing of all was the fact that Hoist _knew_ he would not _have_ to do that. The Constructicon leader would no more let harm come to Grapple than he would his own team. Now this ‘relationship’ was on the go again, Hoist’s role as a protector would, he knew, be practically redundant.

Hoist should have raised the alarm, of course. _Missing Autobot._  But he didn’t. Instead, he simply transformed and without a word, made his way back through the rain to catch up with the others.

Later, he calmly informed Prowl that there had, indeed, been a need to check the foundations.


End file.
